


Tripitaka Who?

by siriuspiggyback



Category: The New Legends of Monkey (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Confusion, F/M, Misunderstandings, Slow Burn, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-02 06:31:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14538720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siriuspiggyback/pseuds/siriuspiggyback
Summary: She wakes up in an unfamiliar forest, with three strangers who insist on calling her Tripitaka. With no idea of where she is, and no memory of the past year, she has to learn to trust them - even when they tell her that she freed The Monkey King. Sandy and Pigsy seem friendly enough, if a bit bizarre.If only she could figure out why Monkey seems to hate her.





	1. Do you know me?

**Author's Note:**

> because every fandom needs an amnesia fic.
> 
> If anyone has ideas/suggestions hit me up!

She woke up slowly, sleep clinging to her as she opened her eyes. She was… on the ground? Somewhere with trees. Leaves were crunching beneath her as she tried to sit up, but she didn’t get far before firm hands on her shoulders stopped her. There was… someone… hovering above her. A boy. A  _ cute  _ boy. “Who..?” she mumbled, but he hushed her.

 

“You’re okay, just take it slow. Your head god knocked pretty hard,” said the cute boy. His voice was low and concerned. She reached up to touch her forehead, and her hand came away red. 

 

“Where am I?” she asked. The forest looked unfamiliar. 

 

“The forest below the Jade Mountain,” said the boy. Behind him, she noticed two blurry figures in the background: a large man, and a woman with white skin and whiter hair. Who were these people?

 

“I- I don’t understand,” she said, “Where’s the Scholar?”

 

The cute boy looked as if he had just been slapped: he flinched back, fale paling. The large man took a whole step back, as if in shock. The trio of them stood silently, as if suspended. Breaking the heavy silence, the pale girl leaned forward, obscuring the first boy. “Tripitaka, do you know who we are?”

 

_ Tripitaka?  _ She decided it was probably not an idea to question who they thought she was - not when she wasn’t too sure herself. “Am I supposed to?”

 

The boy stood suddenly, his face dark, before stomping away into the forest, muttering a string of curses under his breath. Tripitaka frowned after him, wondering what she had done wrong. She sat up, ignoring the way the ground swayed under her. “Look, I think maybe you have the wrong person? I should get back, the Scholar will be wondering- Could you point me to the way out of the forest?”

 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” said the girl, almost apologetically. “We need to explain some things to you.”

 

Tripitaka felt her stomach drop down to the vicinity of her toes, the reality of her situation sinking in. She was in a strange forest, with even stranger people, and she had no idea how to get home. “Please, I just need to get home.” Tripitaka pushed herself to her feet, and instantly regretted it. The trees seemed to roll away, twisting incomprehensibly. She almost fell, but fortunately, large hands grabbed her as her knees gave way. “I’m going to-” she attempted to warn the large man, but didn’t quite managing before vomiting over his shoes.

 

This day just kept getting better.

 

She must have blacked out for a moment, because next thing she knew, she was leaning against a tree trunk, with the pale girl patting her on the shoulder tentatively, in the same manner that one might pet a temperamental cat. The large man was gone, but she could hear his footsteps not far off. 

 

“He’s just going to the river to clean his shoes,” the girl said delicately. 

 

“Sorry,” moaned Tripitaka, miserable.

 

“It’s okay,” she replied.

 

Feeling lost, Tripitaka asked, “I didn’t catch your name?”

 

“Right, of course,” she said, “I’m Sandy. The one whose shoes you vomited on was Pigsy.”

 

“And the angry one?”

 

Sandy gave her a long look. “That’s Monkey.”

 

Tripitaka spluttered. “Not- no, he can’t be-”

 

“The Monkey King,” confirmed Sandy, matter of fact. “You freed him, and now we’re on a quest to find the seven scrolls before the demons do.”

 

“Right,” said Tripitaka faintly. She couldn’t help but gape. It wasn’t possible. She was never supposed to be Tripitaka! She was a  _ girl _ , for god's sake! It was only then that she noticed- “My hair! What happened to my hair?”

 

“Oh, you were pretending to be a boy, pretending to be a monk, pretending to be Tripitaka,” explained Sandy.

 

“Of course. Why not, right?” she leaned her head back against the tree, rubbing at the throb in her temples. “This isn’t possible.”

 

“On the contrary, not only is it possible, it is factually true,” said Sandy.

 

Tripitaka gave a dry laugh, a slight hysterical note to it, and wiped away a couple of stray tears.

 

“Oh! No, don’t do that!” Sandy said. 

 

“Sorry, sorry, I’m okay,” said Tripitaka hastily, “It’s just a lot.”

 

“I’m sure you’ll remember things soon. It’s just a knock to the head,” said Sandy, although her voice didn’t hold much certainty.

 

Heavy footsteps approached, and the man from earlier - Pigsy - nodded at the pair as he approached. “It’s nearly sunset. We should probably set up camp here.”

 

“Did you see Monkey?” asked Sandy.

 

“No,” said Pigsy.

 

Sandy sighed, standing up. “I’ll go look for him,” she said, before (to Tripitaka’s amazement) disappearing in a flash of blue light in the direction Monkey had left in.

 

Noticing Tripitaka’s shock, he said, “Pretty cool, huh?” He gave her a congenial smile, which returned shyly. “Hey, wanna help me build a fire?”

 

“I don’t know how,” admitted Tripitaka.

 

“It’s okay,” said Pigsy, “I’ll teach you. If you help me cut some vegetables, we can have dinner ready by time the other’s get back. Deal?”

 

Tripitaka took a deep breath. “Deal.”


	2. The Fractional Equivalent of Pi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm playing fast and loose with Sandy's medical knowledge here, but someone gotta be the sensible one
> 
> Thanks to Nausicaa95 for pointing out my inability to use maths at 2am!

 

By time the others had come back, Pigsy and Tripitaka had successfully created a stew, and Tripitaka was breathing a little easier. The nausea and dizziness had passed, and she was feeling more confident that the group wasn’t involved in some nefarious scheme to kidnap her. Sandy smiled as she helped herself to a portion of food. Monkey stomped in looking as sour as he had when he left, and didn’t spare Tripitaka a glance as he settled down. He pulled some sort of stick out of his hair and started twirling it through his fingers in a vaguely threatening manner. Tripitaka couldn’t help but wonder what she had done to make him dislike her so violently.

 

After dinner, Pigsy unpacked some bedrolls, and suggested that they settle for the night.

 

“Someone will have to wake Tripitaka every hour,” said Sandy.

 

“What? Why?” said Monkey.

 

“It’s basic first aid for a concussion,” said Sandy.

 

“It is?” said Pigsy.

 

“Yes. With head injuries, you must wake the patient every hour or two and ask basic questions to check their cognition,” stated Sandy with confidence. The trio stared at her in surprise. “What? I read,” she said.

 

“I’m sure that’s not necessary,” said Tripitaka, only to be wholly ignored by the group.

 

“How do we decide who stays up?” asked Pigsy.

 

“Rock, paper, scissors?” suggested Monkey. Suddenly, he seemed one hundred percent less intimidating to Tripitaka.

 

“1,2,3,” they counted in unison, before throwing their hands out.

 

“No!” cried Monkey.

 

“You always choose rock,” said Sandy.

 

“Sorry, Monkey. Wake me up in a few hours, okay?” said Pigsy, although Tripitaka privately thought that he didn't sound at all sorry.

 

Monkey grumbled as he collected his blanket and marched over to where Tripitaka had settled. Tripitaka watched with trepidation as he sat down, still not looking at her all the while. She closed her eyes, hoping sleep would come soon; it was going to be a long night.

  
  


**67 minutes later:**

  


“Hey. Hey, wake up.”

 

“Huh?” Tripitaka said intelligently.

 

“What’s my name?”

 

“Uh…” she squinted, “Monkey.”

 

“And your name?” questioned Monkey.

 

“Tripitaka.”

 

“And… I don’t know.” Monkey paused. “What colour is the sky?”

 

“When?” asked Tripitaka.

 

“What?”

 

“What time of day?” specified Tripitaka.

 

“Why are you making this so difficult?” hissed Monkey.

 

“It’s a valid question!” said Tripitaka.

 

“Just- just go back to sleep.”

 

She huffed, but did as she was told, grateful to escape the acidic conversation.

 

**83 minutes later:**

 

“Tripitaka, wake up.”

 

She opened her eyes, groggy but not as confused as last time. “You're Monkey, I'm Tripitaka, and the sky is currently black,” she said.

 

Monkey opened and closed his mouth a few times, barely visible in the dark, before saying, “Fine. You can go back to sleep.”

 

But Tripitaka was asleep before he finished his sentence.

  


**72 minutes later:**

 

“Wake up. Come on, wake up.”

 

“I'm awake,” said Tripitaka.

 

“What,” said Monkey, “is the fractional equivalent of pi?”

 

“Seriously?” Tripitaka asked, disbelieving. 

 

“Oh I'm sorry, was that question too hard?” crowed Monkey.

 

“Well, there isn't an answer. Pi is irrational.”

 

“Wait, what?” said Monkey, his gloating tone vanishing.

 

“It's irrational, it can't be expressed as a fraction,” Tripitaka stated.

 

“Right, of course,” Monkey blustered. “I was just... testing you.”

 

“Of course,” Tripitaka grinned, victorious, before rolling over and going back to sleep.

 

**27 minutes later:**

 

“Hey, shh. Wake up.”

 

Tripitaka jolted awake, heart pounding. To her surprise, Monkey's hand was on her shoulder, although he quickly pulled his hand away when she woke. She felt strangely disorientated for a second, like deja vu, but the feeling passed as quickly as it came.

 

“What?” said Tripitaka, but Monkey just made a confused noise. His eyebrows were drawn into a frown. “Aren't you going to ask me questions?”

 

“Oh! No, it's, uh-” Monkey cleared his throat before saying, “it's not time for that yet.”

 

“Then why did you wake me?” questioned Tripitaka.

 

He was quiet for a moment, before explaining, “You were having a nightmare.” His voice was quite different to the confrontational boy from earlier; his tone was low and soothing, and somehow this was worse. She felt humiliated in the face of it.

 

“Oh,” she said, voice small.

 

“I was going to go trade shifts now, but-” he scratched the back of his neck, unsure, “are you going to be okay?”

 

“Of course,” said Tripitaka, her tone carefully constructed to sound as collected and detached as possible.

 

“Right. Right. I guess I'll…” The warmth from earlier had leached out of his voice, leaving the angry boy that she was familiar with. He was gone before she could regret her dismissal. She quickly closed her eyes and slowed her breathing, hoping that whoever had the next shift wouldn't bother her until she had her emotions back under control.


	3. Open Up

  
  


They had left their camp early that day. Apparently their next stop was a few days walk from where Tripitaka had woken up, and Sandy had suggested that they leave early to make the most of the daylight. The four began trudging through the forest, a heavy feeling in the air. They were all but silent, with conversation scarce. Tripitaka considered attempting to spark a conversation - she thought she might feel more comfortable if she knew the strange trio better. Ironically, it was a lot harder to find a neutral topic with total strangers. Even worse, Monkey seemed to be keeping a 3 metre distance from her at all times, like maybe her amnesia was contagious. She told herself that it didn’t hurt. What did it matter if Monkey didn’t like her? After all, she didn’t even know him, except from the stories that the Scholar had told her, and she was beginning to suspect that those weren’t so accurate. 

 

On the positive side, all the quiet gave her plenty of time to organise her thoughts. She had been reaching back, trying to figure out how far the blank space in her memory stretched. According to Sandy, it had been several months since they met, and she couldn’t recall the events leading up to Monkey being released either. It was unnerving to Tripitaka. She had always been an independent person, not comfortable with relying on others, which made it all the harder to trust these strangers to tell the truth. As much as they seemed to be good people, a small part of her rebelled at the idea of taking them at their word. Unfortunately, she didn’t have much choice, unless she decided to navigate the forest herself, a course of action which would most likely end with her lost and alone. 

 

What was worse than her lack of memory, was the sense that the memories were just out of reach. Occasionally something would tickle something in her brain, (Pigsy asking how long until lunch, Sandy’s detached observations, Monkey’s eyes avoiding hers) and she would feel so close to remembering that she held her breath. The harder she tried to remember, to dig backwards to recover it, the further the memory slipped away, like trying to explain a dream. If she thought on it too long, she ended up doubting that the memory ever existed. Maybe, she thought, she was so desperate to remember that she had fabricated the feeling. She remembered reading about psychosomatic injuries - sensations created by the brain - and told herself firmly to stop trying so hard to remember. Of course, this was difficult to do when she had hours of quiet, and not much else to think about.

 

The other mystery which haunted her as she trekked through the trees was Monkey’s strange behaviour. She had initially thought that maybe it was just his personality, that it wasn’t personal, but that theory had quickly fallen apart when she saw that he wasn’t universally rude. With Sandy and Pigsy, he was sometimes terse, but there was a definite feeling of camaraderie underneath it all. In contrast, when he deigned to interact with Tripitaka, he was cool and distant, or sometimes outright disdainful. Not usually the type to cause conflict, she wasn’t quite sure how to approach him. Eventually, she had decided to give his space; Monkey likely had his reasons, even if Tripitaka couldn’t remember their history.

 

Still, this didn’t stop her from asking about him at the first opportunity. When Monkey and Sandy went ahead to scout for a open space to stop for lunch, she was left alone with Pigsy, Unwilling to waste time, Tripitaka got straight to the point, asking, “Pigsy, do Monkey and I fight usually?”

 

“What?” said Pigsy, perplexed. “No, you two are… well, it seems to me that you’re very close. You’ve had you differences, but you always come through for each other.”

 

“If that’s true, why is he acting like he hates me?”

 

“Oh, that’s not-” he blustered, “he doesn’t.”

 

“He barely looks at me, and when he does he looks like he wants me dead.” stated Tripitaka flatly.

 

Pigsy sighed. “He doesn’t deal with emotions well.”

 

“How so?” asked Tripitaka.

 

“He’s upset that you can’t remember us - we all are - but he doesn’t do sad, or hurt. I guess it’s easier to pretend that he doesn’t like you anyway.”

 

Tripitaka considered this, frowning. It made some sense, but at the same time she was having a hard time comparing Monkey’s reactions to the other’s. Sure, Pigsy and Sandy had been worried and maybe sad when they realised she had forgotten them, but Monkey was different. She thought back to those groggy moments after the head injury, Monkey’s face when she asked where the Scholar was. He didn’t look sad, he looked distraught. It had to be more than that. It seemed that if she wanted answers, she would have to speak to Monkey himself. The question was, would he speak to her at all?

  
  
  


Lunch was a tense affair. Pigsy was watching Tripitaka, a contemplative expression on his face, while she watched Monkey, a crease between her eyebrows. All the while, Monkey was studiously not looking at anyone, gazing into his food like it could hold all the answers. Sandy, on the other hand, seemed completely oblivious to the situation, humming to herself cheerfully. Tripitaka felt suddenly rather fond of the strange girl. This soon evaporated when Sandy suggested, “Why don’t we go around and tell Tripitaka about who we are and how we met?”

 

“Wait, what?” said Monkey, sounding faintly horrified.

 

“Well,” reasoned Sandy, “she doesn’t really know us. If I were in her shoes, I would probably want to know who I was trusting with my life.”

 

“With her life? Bit over dramatic,” said Pigsy.

 

“You never know when your life may be threatened,” said Sandy, serene voice at odds with her words.

 

“Okay, okay, we’re getting off topic,” said Pigsy, “May as well do this properly, then. Ladies first.”

 

“You don’t have to-” said Tripitaka, uncomfortable with the attention, even if she was curious about the crazy life she had no recollection of leading.

 

“So, before we met, I had been living alone for quite some time,” started Sandy, seemingly unaware of Tripitaka’s protest, “in the sewers. You see, I have an affinity to water. Anyway, I saved you from a Demon pretending to be a boy. I saved your life. Oh, and ended up imprisoned with Monkey for a while. And then saved you again. There’s been a lot of saving people and being saved.”

 

“Right,” said Tripitaka, feeling if anything more confused than before, “Thanks for sharing?” Sandy gave her a grand sort of nod of acknowledgement.

 

“I came in a bit later. I sort of tricked and captured all of you,” said Pigsy.

 

“What?” cried Tripitaka, alarmed.

 

“But then I changed my mind!” he added hastily, “and saved you from my boss. So it really cancels out. Before that, I had been serving a Demon for many years, miserable. So, in a way, saving you saved me.”

 

“Okay,” said Tripitaka, feeling rather dazed at the onslaught of information.

 

There was a pointed pause then, with Pigsy and Sandy turning to look at Monkey expectantly. Tripitaka looked away. When she had said she wanted to talk to him about their past, she didn’t mean in front of everyone!

 

Monkey rolled his eyes, as if he found the whole thing ridiculous. “You freed me from the rock, and in return, I saved your life,” he said, in the sort of tone that a parent uses when humouring a child. “That’s about it.”

 

“That’s rather oversimplifying things,” said Sandy.

 

“Is it?” said Monkey.

 

“If we want Tripitaka to trust us, we have to be open with her,” said Sandy, reproachful.

 

“I’m open!” defended Monkey. “I’m… you know what, this is ridiculous. “I’m going to go fill the canteens.” He stood with a huff, marching out of the clearing. 

 

“The river’s the other way!” Sandy called. Monkey stopped, looked up to the sky as if in prayer, before pivoting toward the correct direction. Sandy ignored this, eyes steady of Tripitaka, “If you’ve got questions,” she said, “You’re welcome to ask. It must be strange, to be known so well by total strangers. 

 

Tripitaka’s voice was tight with emotion. “Thank you, Sandy. I really appreciate that.” 

 

Sandy reached over and put a hand on her shoulder, and for a moment, Tripitaka felt like she knew her.


	4. Floodgates

It had been a long day of walking. Every step that Tripitaka took was made worse by the headache which thumped along with her - the aftereffect of her head injury, she assumed. It made it harder to keep pace with the gods, who marched along just as easily as when they had set out this morning, unhindered by the exhaustion that plagued Tripitaka. She tried to cover her winces when her headache throbbed at a jolting step, not willing to show weakness in front of the group when she had just begun to feel a little more comfortable around them.

By the time the group had settled on a camp for the night, the weather had turned. As the group ate their dinner, clouds rolled over, making the night seem to gather around them with unnatural speed. Initially, Tripitaka was relieved; after a day of walking in the muggy warmth, the cooler air was blissful against her hot skin. The gods didn’t seem affected by the heat like Tripitaka, and she had been trailing behind a little despite her best efforts. She was quick to change her mind on the incoming clouds, however, when the first fat drop of rain hit her, rolling down her face and clinging to her jaw like a tear. That was all the warning they had before it began to rain in earnest, the ominous clouds becoming too heavy to hold themselves up, reaching too high and falling like Icarus. It was the sort of rain which made you feel a little humbled to witness it.

Monkey swore under his breath. “Hey Pigsy, don’t suppose you’ve got a tent in that bag of yours?”

“Not quite,” said Pigsy regretfully, “at lease, nothing big enough for all of us.” He began to rifle through his pack, pulling out a few narrow poles and a roll of leather, and beginning to construct a rudimentary sort of shelter. 

Tripitaka observed, getting wetter by the minute, the trees offering minimal cover. The lean-to could maybe fit two of them, if they huddled together real close. She didn’t feel optimistic about getting a full night's sleep. When Pigsy finished, the four looked at the shelter skeptically. Pigsy finally suggested that they pull straws to see who gets the shelter.

Water had saturated Tripitaka’s short hair, and was steadily creeping down her neck, eliciting a shiver. 

“Wait,” interrupted Monkey, “Tripitaka should get the tent, and we can pull straws to decide who shares.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” said Tripitaka, a little embarrassed at being singled out.

“That’s very altruistic of you,” observed Sandy.

Monkey shrugged. “Humans are much weaker than gods,” he said. He tossed his hair in an arrogant gesture, although it was impeded but the fact his hair was soaked from the rain and hanging heavily around his face.

“Sure,” snorted Pigsy. “Go ahead, Tripitaka.”

Tripitaka considered arguing, for the sake of her pride, but in the end the appeal of a dry shelter was too enticing, and she quickly curled up under the little roof.

“I’ll stay out here,” said Sandy, “I rather like the water.” She gave an enigmatic little smile before picking two straws, and offering them to the boys. After a quick comparison, it was clear who had the shortest straw. 

“That’s not fair!” yelled Pigsy, “It’s my bloody tent!”

“Them’s the breaks,” said Monkey, patting Pigsy’s arm unrepentantly. After that, Monkey wasted no time in ducking under the shelter. It wasn’t until he came face to face with Tripitaka that a look of realisation crossed his face. Tripitaka half expected him to forfeit his space in the tent just to avoid her, but he recovered quickly. Tripitaka had the uncharitable notion that he would do anything to protect his hair, and then wondered where that thought had come from. It took some careful maneuvering to fit in, and even squeezed together like sardines, they were getting a little damp around the edges, but it was certainly better than sitting in the rain.

Still, Tripitaka was certain she wouldn’t sleep. Monkey was a hot line against her side, almost burning against her chilled skin. She could feel the tension radiating off of him. He lay firmly facing away from her, arms crossed petulantly. Despite the fatigue, and her full belly, Tripitaka couldn’t relax, too aware of the boy next to her. Her breath seemed obnoxiously loud in the small space. She almost rolled onto her side, before realising that it would leave her spooning Monkey. Letting out a slow sigh, she tried to count sheep, but kept getting distracted around 57. 

In the quiet of the night, it seemed that everything caught up with her at once. The scholars death, the loss of her home, the newness of everything around her; it was overwhelming. She tried to regulate her breathing, not wanting to wake Monkey, but her thoughts kept sliding away from her. She couldn’t latch on to anything coherent. Her throat was closing over, making breathing even harder. She told herself she wasn’t going to cry, but that didn’t stop the tears from escaping, rolling her flushed cheeks. As if this wasn’t bad enough, the unthinkable happened. Monkey rolled over and pushed up onto his elbow, looking down at her. She hoped that it was too dark for even a god to see her clearly, but she knew there was no hiding it - her breath was hitching, shoulders shaking.

After a moment, Monkey said, “Are you… are you crying?” His voice was low, almost drowned out by the rain, but embarrassment hit Tripitaka as if he had shouted it for all the world to hear. With that, any control that she had retained went out the window. The humiliation opened the floodgates, and everything came pouring out. Sobs broke from her mouth, agonised sounds which were frightening in their intensity. Monkey seemed to agree, since he started shushing her frantically. This didn’t seem to help. She hoped to hell that the rain would stop the sound carrying to where Pigsy and Sandy were sleeping.

“Shh, shit, I’m sorry! Please stop crying,” begged Monkey.

“I- I can’t-,” whimpered Tripitaka, feeling truly pathetic. She sat up, burrowing her face in her knees. She had never considered herself a cryer, and growing up with the Scholar hadn’t been the sort of environment to encourage emotional expression. The force of it was somewhat alarming, like an unstoppable force of nature, sweeping past any walls that she might try to put up.

“Okay, it’s okay,” said Monkey, and to her shock, he drew her into him, wrapping his arms around her. “It’s okay to cry.”

His strong arms around her felt like they could block out the rest of the world, shield her from the truths that she couldn’t deal with quite yet. She twisted and buried her face in the crook of his neck. His skin was warm and soft, and she could smell him and only him, a smell that reminded her of summer air and bonfires. His neck quickly became wet with her tears, but Monkey didn’t pull away, just tucked her more firmly against his body, murmuring a litany of kind words into her ear. Tripitaka’s sobs slowly quieted, until she was trembling but no longer crying.

All cried out, she became aware of quite how entangled the pair had become. Flushing, she moved to give him some space, but Monkey said, “You don’t have to-”, and that was all the encouragement needed for her to burrow back into the safe space he had created for her. Gently, he leaned back down, with Tripitaka’s head pillowed on his shoulder. Her breathing slowed, until she was in sync with Monkey. It wasn’t long until they drifted to sleep.

 

 

Tripitaka woke slowly, feeling warm and still. She reached out before she remembered what she was searching for. The sharp sting of disappointment stripped away the contentment she had woken with; Monkey wasn’t there. She sat up to see that their shelter had already been dismantled and packed, and Pigsy was already cooking something for breakfast. Monkey and Sandy were sitting on either side, forming a loose semi circle. With a careful eye, she approached, watching Monkey avoid her gaze. Sandy and Pigsy greeted her sleepily, but Monkey didn’t look up, twirling his hairstick between his fingers nonchalantly. 

Tripitaka swallowed heavily and told herself that it didn’t hurt.


	5. And Over Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just an epilogue left after this one guys! thanks for all the lovely comments!<3

 

The tension had become tangible. From the second Tripitaka had woken up to find Monkey as distant as ever, she had been unable to hide the resentment from showing on her face. Sandy and Pigsy had been trading glances all morning, ranging from concerned to amused. Tripitaka knew she wasn’t helping the situation - she had be quiet and churlish through breakfast - but Monkey hadn’t been any better, snapping at the smallest provocation. 

 

Around midday, they came to a stop to discuss the plan. They were getting close to the next town, where Monkey had hidden another scroll. They should reach it the next day, if everything went to plan.  Sandy was trying to strategise how to get in unseen, with Pigsy pulling out a map in hope of finding the quietest route through town. Meanwhile, Tripitaka stood a little away from the group, feeling superfluous.

 

Instead, she thought. 

 

She had been pondering a lot recently about hard truths. In recent days, her mind had been carefully skirting the edge of her reality. Compartmentalising was key in the overwhelming days post concussion, but it had begun to weigh on her. She had begun dealing with the surface blows - the loss of the Scholar, the newness of her situation, Monkey’s hostility - but there was one thing that she hadn’t thought about yet. All of this could be survivable, but there was one thing that she couldn’t handle, and that was the idea of it being permanent.

 

Since her breakdown the night before, it was like she had opened pandora’s box, and she couldn’t shove it all back down. She tried to keep herself in the present, but the future encroached on every thought, and the more she tried to push it away the worse it got, until she couldn’t ignore it anymore.

 

This was her hard truth: she might never regain her memories.

 

And if she never did… then what? Did she follow these people, always being a little bit behind on their inside jokes, never truly belonging? Did she continue on this quest that she couldn’t remember starting?

 

No. She wouldn’t do it. She couldn’t base her life on a decision that she couldn’t remember making. She couldn’t.

 

She had to start again. 

 

But where? With these people? Sandy and Pigsy were friendly, but Monkey’s mood swings gave her whiplash, and she always felt a little out of step with them besides. But without them.. She had nobody. The scholar was dead. The prospect of being alone, truly alone, terrified her. 

 

Unless…

 

She thought of her mother. She had never met her, but she remembered the town she was from, and she wondered to herself. Surely, it was possible that she had returned, or if nothing else, that she could maybe find a clue as to where her mother had gone. A lot went unknown in Tripitaka’s life; maybe her mother didn’t have to be one of them.

 

So, as Pigsy and Sandy planned, so did Tripitaka. Covertly, she began writing a note. She wasn’t certain that the others would let her go, and that wasn’t a risk that she was willing to take. She had made her decision. 

 

She would leave that night.

  
  


* * *

 

 

Monkey woke to Sandy muttering to herself, punctuated by Pigsy’s snores. This wasn’t too unusual, so he didn’t think much of it at first, until he noticed the scrap of paper clutched in her hands. “Did we not tell her about… no, of course not,” she murmured, “of course it would repeat.”

 

“Sandy?” called Monkey, “Is something wrong?”

 

Sandy’s head snapped up. She looked at him, unblinking. “Tripitaka’s gone.”

 

“What? What do you mean?” demanded Monkey.

 

“She left a note. Like last time. She had gone to find her mother,” she said. 

 

Monkey let out a string of curses. “Right. Let’s go,” he stood, “Pigsy! Wake up!”

 

“Wha-” said Pigsy unintelligibly, “Where’s the fire?”

 

“Tripitaka has left to find her mother,” said Monkey.

 

“Again?” said Pigsy.

 

“Well,” reasoned Sandy, “She doesn’t know that she already tried that.”

 

“Can’t you… y’know, do your swish thing?” said Pigsy, waving a hand vaguely.

 

“Swish thing?” questioned Sandy, frowning.

 

“Like when you go invisible and super fast,” Pigsy explained.

 

Sandy huffed. “I can’t keep that up indefinitely, you know.”

 

Pigsy and Monkey gave her a look.

 

“Oh, fine. I’ll take a look,” she said, and with that she disappeared, a breeze left in her wake. She was only gone for half a minute before returning, slightly out of breath. “I couldn’t find her. If she left yesterday evening, she could be almost at the village by now. The demons are sure to have spies there,” Sandy said gravely.

 

“Then we will have to be fast,” said Monkey, whistling for his cloud. The trio stepped on, although it was a tight fit with three of them. “Hold on,” Monkey instructed. 

 

“To  _ what,” _ yelled Pigsy, but his voice was lost to the wind.

  
  


When they neared the village, they squinted down at the treeline, but to no avail - she must have beaten them there. 

 

“Should we split up?” suggested Sandy.

 

“Yes, cover more ground that way. Stay low profile - right, Monkey?” said Pigsy pointedly.

 

Monkey shot him a sour look. “Of course,” he said, hopping down from his cloud and striding into the village, chin high. The remaining pair shared a look of trepidation before splitting up.

  
  


* * *

 

Tripitaka was earning some strange looks. Or maybe it was just paranoia. Either way, she felt watched as walked through the village, her birth place. She attempted to ask some stall workers if they had heard of her mother, but they turned away with expressions which seemed almost  _ afraid.  _ Tripitaka couldn’t for the life of her understand why. As she wandered further into the village, she noticed someone watching her from the shadows between buildings. She took a step towards the figure, but they scurried away before she got any further. Feeling rather disconcerted, she started back towards the edge of the village, regretting her decision to come all of a sudden. The short hair at the nape of her neck stood on end. It was time to leave.

 

She had only just begun to retrace her steps when hands grabbed her from behind, pulling her into a doorway. She tried to scream, but to was quickly muffled. A couple of villagers saw, and she looked at them imploringly, but they avoided her gaze, hurrying into their houses. The door shut, and she was thrown carelessly to the floor. She looked up to see a strange man looking down at her. He might have been handsome, if not for how colourless he was, like wax. He had strange writing across his jaw, and a cold look in his eye. “I didn’t think you would be stupid enough to come back here,” he said.

 

“Come back?” echoed Tripitaka, eyes wide and brows drawn low. 

 

The strange man cocked his head. “Well, no matter. The Shaman will be pleased. He has waited a long time for this.” With swift grace, he pulled Tripitaka’s hands behind her back, rope coming from thin air to twist between her wrists. She struggled, but it was futile. “Come, child.” He tugged at her, kicking open the door and leading her out like a dog on a leash, pedestrians parting like the red sea. She tried to dig her heels in, but he was impossibly strong. Tripitaka tried to hold in tears; she was terrified and confused, but she refused to show her fear. They were nearing the edge of the village. She knew that if they made it that far, there would be no one to stop him.

 

“Help!” she cried, “Please!”

 

And then, like she summoned him with her prayers - “Tripitaka?”

 

Her kidnapper came to such an abrupt stop that she bounced off of him. She peeked around him, and there stood Monkey, looking strong and defiant in the middle of the path. Her breath flew out of her. “ _ Monkey! _ ”

 

“Unhand her,” demanded Monkey. 

 

“Or what?” the pale man said, sounding like a villainous cliche.

 

Without further ado, Monkey pulled out his staff, and her kidnapper leapt forward. Monkey twirled his weapon with precision, but his assailant dodged gracefully, sending a spray of sparks at Monkey. Was that  _ magic? _

 

Tripitaka felt frozen. She knew logically that she had seen fights like this before - hell, if Sandy was to be believed, she had been doing the fighting - but as far as she could remember, she had never seen anything so violent before. She picked up a sharp rock and sawed away at her ties. Eventually her hands came free, and she stood, wanting to help but unsure how. It seemed Monkey was winning without her, though; the demon was backing away. Unfortunately, the demon seemed to come to the same realisation. He whirled, spinning her in front of him, and put his hand to her temple in the shape of a gun. It would have been a comical sight, if Tripitaka hadn't seen the powerful magic he could wield.

 

“Stop right there,” the demon said, and Monkey skidded to a halt. “If you want the girl to live, you're going to let me take the girl.”

 

Monkey looked pale, his jaw grinding as he looked at Tripitaka. “Okay, okay,” said Monkey, “Let's just talk about this.”

 

Tripitaka knew there would be no talking their way out of this, and she wouldn't let herself me taken by him. She thought of an old proverb the Scholar had once said: better that we should die on our feet rather than live on our knees. She was not going to kneel for this man.

 

Covertly, she made an aborted gesture with one hand, hidden from the demon's view. Once she saw that Monkey had noticed, she splayed out her fingers, folding one in at a time, (5, 4, 3, 2, 1.)

 

And when her hand closed into a fist, she brought her elbow back into the demon's gut in one fast jab. Distracted by pain, he loosened his grip, and Tripitaka used the opportunity to leap away. Monkey, waiting ready, swiftly launched himself at the demon, bringing his staff down with such force that the demon burst into a cloud of dust before disappearing altogether.

 

Monkey hastily reached for Tripitaka, his large hands eclipsing her shaking ones and pulling her to her feet. He held her out to assess for injuries, face pinched. 

 

“I'm okay,” Tripitaka assured him, “I'm okay.”

 

“You shouldn't of done that,” said Monkey, familiar frustration in his voice. “You could have gotten yourself killed!”

 

“Well, I didn't see how you were going to save me,” she retorted, “so I saved myself.”

 

Monkey looked at her, dark eyes boring into hers, and time seemed to suspend as they held each other's gaze. Then Monkey dove forward, lips crashing into hers. There was no finesse to it. The kiss was frantic, desperate, awful and wonderful, too much and not enough, and Tripitaka couldn't breathe. She pressed closer, and his arms came up to circle her, his body warm against her. She lifted her hand to tangle into his hair, her pinky finger brushing against his crown, and-

 

_ It was raining and she was climbing and her hands slipped but she had to keep going- _

 

_ Lighting cracked and then through the fissure she saw- _

 

_ She dropped another plate and Veronica looked at her, half stern and half fond- _

 

_ Waking up somewhere dark and damp, watched by a pale girl- _

 

_ “Just go, and never show your face here again-” _

 

_ And the scroll, he had the scroll- _

 

_ And Monkey- _

 

_ Monkey- _

 

Monkey was cradling her into his chest. “Tripitaka? What's wrong?” he said, voice heavy with concern. She was crying, she realised, hot tears running down her face.

 

“Wow,” she heard from behind, “was he that bad a kisser?”

 

“Sandy!” cried Tripitaka, turning to throw her arms around the girl, almost barreling her over. “And Pigsy!’ she added, releasing Sandy to hug Pigsy. 

 

“Hello to you too,” Pigsy rumbled bemusedly. 

 

Tripitaka stepped back, drying her face on her sleeve. “Gods,” she mumbled, voice cracking. Monkey reached out and put a hand in her elbow, as if to steady her. His eyebrows were drawn low, and his eyes darted across her face as if he might find answers there. Tripitaka let out a slow breath. “I remember,” she said. “I remember everything.”

 

After moment of stunned silence, the group converged in, Tripitaka at the centre of an awkward but heartfelt group hug. They were laughing, heady with relief, and in the arms of her best friends, Tripitaka felt more safe than she had in days.


	6. Epilogue

“Do you remember that time we went back to Monica's, after the show down with Davari-”

“And she thought I was just terrible at pretending to be a boy!” said Tripitaka, voice shaking with laughter. 

“Well, Monkey,” said Monkey, imitating Veronica's voice with impressive accuracy, “If you don’t think it’s okay for a boy to wear a dress, you’re not welcome in my pub.”

Tripitaka snorted and buried her face in Monkey’s neck. They were lying on soft grass, looking up at the stars. Monkey had an arm wrapped around her shoulders. Despite the newness of it, the sudden change in their relationship, she felt comfortable with the closeness. 

“I kept trying to tell her I wasn’t making fun of you, but would she listen? I think she hates me. I even told her, I’ve been a girl before! I wasn’t being mean!”

Tripitaka pulled back so that she could look up at Monkey’s face, just barely visible under the light from the moon. “You were a girl?”

“Sure, a few times. I could switch before… y’know. It was one of my powers.” Monkey sighed, wistful. “Wait, is that weird for you?”

Tripitaka thought about it for a second before saying, “No, I think you’ll always just be Monkey to me.” She smiled mischievously. “Besides, it would be a little hypocritical of me, don’t you think?” she teased.

Monkey laughed, eyed crinkling. “Well, good thing I love you whether you’re a boy or a girl.”

“...You love me?” said Tripitaka, a look of wonder on her face. 

“What?”

“You just said…”

“Oh,” said Monkey, and it was hard to tell, but Tripitaka thought he looked a little pink. “Yeah. I mean-” he cleared his throat. 

“I love you too,” said Tripitaka, eyes wide.

“You do?” said Monkey, breathless.

“Yeah,” she confirmed. 

Monkey pulled her into a kiss. It was a little awkward, because they were both smiling too much to kiss properly. Instead, Monkey began pressing kisses into her cheeks, her forehead, her short tufts of hair. Tripitaka giggled, her heart so full it felt too big for her chest. He returned to her lips, kissing her softly, murmuring I love you into her mouth. 

Tripitaka carefully committed every moment to her memory,

She was determined never to forget.


End file.
